


i've never fallen from quite this high (falling into your ocean eyes)

by ryneisaterriblefan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bullying, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), I think?, Ocean, Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Slightly - Freeform, anglerfishes, based on a writing prompt that i cant find, god of ocean lance, keith loves the ocean, not explicit i guess, spells, tw in notes, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 03:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18460421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryneisaterriblefan/pseuds/ryneisaterriblefan
Summary: ‘Oh, Keith,’ Lance half-sighs, half-laughs, ‘Why would I kill something that’s loved me so much and asked for nothing in return?’





	i've never fallen from quite this high (falling into your ocean eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: keith is pushed off a cliff, but it isn't explicitly stated whether it was intentional or not. He is also bullied, but that also isnt explicitly described in detail.

 Keith likes to talk to the ocean.

 People mock him for it—say that it’s weird and the ocean’s inanimate anyways, say that he’s a freak of nature for loving it.

 He doesn’t reply with sentences like _well you love your clothes and possessions too how is it different_ and _you love things like the wind too and the sun why are you bothering me for loving nature_ because he’s learned since long ago that those don’t get him anywhere, they only leave him cold and hurting and numb.

 He draws, too, sometimes. Though it’s almost always futile; he never can quite capture the way the ocean waves roll and tumble and dance like it doesn’t have a care in the world. Keith’s sketchbooks are always filled with waves, blue drawings, but they’re all taken from the same angle—a cliff he’s grown used to visiting since he was a child—and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of just looking at the ocean and relaxing in its warmth.

 He used to be scared, of the sheer drop, of the precarious way his legs could dangle if he swung them over the edge—but now it’s routine, and it refreshes Keith and he thinks he’ll never get used to the thrill of letting a piece of him fall, even if he has to rein himself in afterwards.

 The ocean has always been kind to him, when other people haven’t. While they talk and snicker and laugh behind his back, the ocean welcomes him and lets him be who he is. It’s comforting, to say the least. The ocean doesn’t shut him away. Keith sometimes wonders if it’s pitiful that his only friend is a body of water, but he shrugs the thought away. He doesn’t need the negativity other people inflict upon him.

 Of course, there are days the ocean isn’t kind.

 There are days when the ocean rages, when the waves are sharp instead of soft, when it roars instead of sings, when it’s angry instead of calm.

 Still, Keith goes out, umbrella above his head, a flimsy raincoat around him, and lets the rain pelt relentlessly on his legs until he has to go back to where he lives.

 Even though it’s the ocean, Keith feels empowered, feels as if the ocean’s rage flows into his veins and makes him feel like he can conquer the world. When the skies are dark and leaves are blown around, Keith feels himself being free, to the point where he sometimes feels like running around and yelling at the top of his lungs.

 He thinks it’s nice that the ocean has a wild side too—it makes it seems more human, and Keith never really stops hoping he can find someone like the ocean in real life.

 

 On his seventeenth birthday, Keith’s first place to visit is the ocean. Despite all his best hopes that the taunts and jeers would’ve stopped as everyone grew older, they haven’t, and Keith’s _so_ tired.

 He’s sick and tired of everything, and the ocean is his only solace—even then, he can’t find his usual joy when he visits it. Despite his growing weariness, he makes sure to visit the ocean every day, even if he can’t stay for long.

 ‘It’s been hard lately,’ Keith murmurs, letting the wind carry his voice, ‘I’m getting too tired. I can’t sleep. What should I do?’

 He knows that there won’t be a reply but he can’t stop himself from hoping—from thinking that there’s something out there which actually listens to him and makes him feel safe. It feels more of a drug now more than ever.

 He doesn’t know how much time he spends there—honestly, he never does—but when he gets some sense of time again, it’s dusk and Keith thinks he should leave for the day.

 Behind him, there are footsteps.

 Keith doesn’t pay much mind to them, because he can usually hear people running about behind him, and he’s just turning around and dusting himself off when—

 —a push.

 Keith’s eyes widen.

 The dark eyes and cruel lips of his attacker meet his own, as he tips backwards, hands flung out in an attempt to hold on, but—

 —there’s nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold him, nothing to ground him (literally, Keith thinks dazedly).

 He’s falling.

 The wind whips past his ears, and the blurry figure grows smaller and smaller from his eyes. Gravity does its job true and well, as Keith starts to feel the sting of the air on his back. This is it, then. This is how he’s going to die. Funny. He’d always thought he’d die early but this wasn’t exactly how he imagined it would happen. The impact would probably kill him.

 But—there’s a feeling of freedom. He’s going to be free of this life, he’s going to be better and, hey—the sky looks mesmerizing like this.

 And suddenly—

 —he’s flying.

 

 When Keith wakes up, he’s not really sure if he’s Keith. Before he opens his eyes, though—Keith knows. He can remember almost everything that’s happened, which is uncannily and probably shouldn’t be possible if he were dead. On the other hand, he probably shouldn’t be alive right now, so he’s not exactly sure what’s going on.

 He tries to move his limbs first, and finds that it’s relatively easy to do so—easier than it would be if he were actually in water. Wait, he can breathe. Keith probably should’ve realized that first.

 Slowly, he opens his eyes.

 There’s a light above him, and Keith shrinks back, not used to the sudden change of brightness.

 Squinting, he sits up—and screams.

 There’s a large ass fish above him—and it’s probably bigger than him, fuck it’s probably going to eat him, Keith knew he was going to die but not eaten by a fish like _this_ —oh fuck he’s gonna pass out—

 A head pops up, and Keith resists the urge to scream. Again.

 ‘Woah, dude, calm down,’ the dude says, pulling himself onto the clam, as Keith now realizes, ‘It’s dark down here so I gave you some light. Don’t worry though, he won’t kill you. Unless I ask him to, I guess,’ he adds as an afterthought, but all of his words are lost on how his _tail_ is flopping slowly.

 Keith stares.

 ‘You know it’s rude to stare, right?’

 Keith’s eyes snap up to the boy—teen? adult?—and realizes a bit belatedly that he’s actually not that bad-looking. Keith thinks he might be blushing. He’s definitely still staring.

 ‘Cat got your tongue?’ the dude smirks, and _holy hell_ Keith thinks his face might be red permanently.

 ‘N-no,’ he stammers out, then, clearing his throat and trying to calm his racing heart and thoughts, ‘Who are you?’

 ‘Ah, the questions,’ the boy nods, ‘I’m the ocean.’

 Keith blinks.

 ‘Well, not really. I’m the physical embodiment of the ocean, more like. Lance. Nice to meet you.’

 ‘Keith,’ Keith replies—mumbles, really. ‘Where am I?’

 ‘I know. As for where you are,’ Lance scratches his head, ‘Somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, I think?’

 ‘How am I surviving?’ Keith asks weakly, at least grateful that his voice and sense of thought isn’t completely gone. Though he’s never really heard of any case where a magical merman saves him from his mortal peril.

 Lance cocks his head to the side, and his eyes gleam blue when he says, ‘Do you think I’d let you die?’

 ‘Um,’ Keith says, unsure of how to respond, ‘Are you my guardian angel or something? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have survived a fall that far.’

 ‘Keith,’ Lance starts, before seeming to hesitate, ‘You love me.’

 Keith’s world stops.

 ‘What?’ he squeaks out.

 ‘All your life,’ Lance says, sounding hesitant for the first time during the conversation, ‘You’ve loved the ocean. You came to the cliff everyday and spoke to me. Like a friend.’

 Is Keith imagining it or does his voice get softer at the end?

 ‘I could never talk back to you, but—‘ now he looks at Keith, eyes cold, ‘—you got pushed off, and it was the last straw.’

 ‘The ocean was supposed to kill me,’ Keith whispers.

 ‘Oh, Keith,’ Lance half-sighs, half-laughs, ‘Why would I kill something that’s loved me so much and asked for nothing in return?’

 

 ‘So, where are we going?’ Keith says from the back of a whale—it’s honestly too dark but the anglerfish from earlier had followed them.

 ‘My kingdom, of course,’ Lance says easily, swimming alongside Keith and his whale. It’s to be noted that Keith still has a bubble around him to breathe, and only his feet are wet from poking them outside the bubble.

 ‘How do you do this?’

 ‘The bubble?’ At Keith’s nod, Lance smiles. ‘It’s a protection spell of sorts. It’s one of the most basic forms of magic. I could teach it to you later, I guess. If you want.’

 ‘Thank you,’ Keith mumbles, ‘I’d appreciate that.’

 Lance grins at him, a full, happy, lopsided grin, and Keith turns his head away before a full blush can form.

 (Maybe Keith’s life isn’t as bad as he thought.)

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'ocean eyes' by billie eilish
> 
> can you recognize the pun tho cause like keith fell from a high cliff and lance has blue eyes and hes the god of the ocean  
> lmao i am a terrible person.


End file.
